After the Rain

Image by author

I step into the waning light

engulfed in scent of rain-soaked earth

as daylight edges into night.

The peepers chirp with rare delight

from nearby pond in mud immersed,

as I step into waning light.

Now hear lone mockingbird recite,

calling out his six-note verse

while day transposes into night.

I feel at one with all, in spite;

renewed in seasonal rebirth—

when I step into waning light.

Remaining rainclouds take to flight,

I watch them scatter and disperse

as daylight edges into night.

Just for a moment sun shines bright,

then slips horizon-line, submersed;

as I step into waning light

and daylight merges with the night.

© Ginny Brannan 2014

Glimmer

Photo by Kelsey Hannah

The veil recedes as in a dream…

in shadowed corners once concealed

now by soft rays of light, revealed.

They skip and soar within the stream,

exposed uncloaked—these faerie folk

dance with delight upon the beam.

In sunlight now, their world unsealed;

till veil recaptures to the dream.

© Ginny Brannan 2014

 Written for Magpie Tales #214  

Image provided by Tess Kincaid, she provides the image, we the story!

Five a.m. on an April Morning

I stare across this mid-night sea

and ponder in that stillness found

the vastness of this vernal plain;

appearing first as ebony

and yet I know it isn’t so…

A hundred billion stars abound—

celestial embers in the dark

whose gasses burned out long ago,

and still they manage to astound.

Left humbled by their reverie,

as if by watching they’ll impart

the knowledge of the centuries…

Yet could we grasp enlightenment

from moment genesis embarked?

More learned men may share insight,

I myself embrace the night

© Ginny Brannan 2014

Sharing at d'Verse Open Link Night April 2014

Daft Poetic Fools

Some call us daft, poetic fools;

Monets who use their words to paint—

inspired by some inner voice

known to stretch and bend the rules

in search of perfect turn of phrase.

We don’t abide much with restraint—

we walk to different drummer’s beat;

Plath and Poe and Frost and Keats…

we read their poems to reacquaint,

then hold our own course once again.

Sometimes the words call in our sleep;

we wake and run to fast transpose

our thoughts, lest they should slip away...

left often feeling incomplete

with need to find that perfect line.

How different then, this path we chose…

exposing all our truths and scars,

yet something from the depths takes hold—

an inner voice held in repose,

an entity that lives inside—

  we must conclude now, insofar,

      this choice to write was never ours…

© Ginny Brannan 2014

Image by author

Coming Home

They skim across the barren gray-cast sky,

these avians returning to their home—

a hundred count amassed in broken vee,

no risk of snow to hurry them along.

Sporadic now the calls heard overhead—

without the urgent threat of winter storm,

as instinct draws them northward-bound again

to nest once more, to find their breeding ground.

Another sign of warmer days to come

this ritual predating dawn of man…

we watch as silhouettes fade out of sight

content in knowing springtime has begun.

© Ginny Brannan 2014
Read here of their  "Southbound" plight!

Inspired by Meeting the Bar: Rhythm and Blank Verse, shared by Tony Maude. Written too late to share there. Sharing today at dVerse Open Link Night!

Running...

Repainted: 2014 Boston Marathon Finish line.

The colors of the day were blue and yellow—

like golden sun adrift in azure sky;

and those along the route could hear the ‘thunder’

as 35,000 tempoed feet clocked by.

The crowd held sway observing all the runners;

an audience a half a million strong—

till day morphed into night-mare unexpected

when shrapnel-filled explosives ripped the throng.

The color of the day turned red and running,

scarlet dripping on a field of gray—

with unsung heroes bounding to the rescue

—yellow shirts and white hat led the way.

It’s been a year since chaos tore the city

with imagery to last a lifetime long—

like phoenix, runners rise up from the ashes

reminding us to all be “Boston Strong”

© Ginny Brannan March 2014

2013 Image. Rescuing injured after bombs exploded.

 3/25/14 News Boston shared that the marathon finish line had just been repainted in preparation for the 118th marathon to be held on April 21st.  

Afternoon Repose

Image: Heather Grace Stewart

While others may prefer room’s core—

encircled chairs set  ‘round the fire,

enrapt in conversations' flow;

I pursue my own desire…

I single out the corner seat,

—as outlaws once chose carefully,

to watch the door instinctively—

then choose a book, no dust disturbed

and disappear inside each word.

© Ginny Brannan 2014

Coming in late, story of my life! This is inspired by a post shared by my friend Joe at A Thing for Words. Found that it was prompted by Heather Grace Stewart for Take Ten Thursday, and this image she shared. Loved the image, hope they don't mind me sharing my "take!"